Stay
by scullyseviltwin
Summary: Sara and Grissom on a hot, hot, HOT... day in the desert. Maybe some Dave Matthews thrown in for fun.


Title: Stay

Author: ScullyAsTrinity

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: George Eads is in my basement right this second yelling for me to release him… but I can't. I just can't. You understand, right?

Thanks: To Tyler. You are awesome dollface.

A/N: I'm stuck on Stalemate in a Sandbox and I was listening the Dave Matthews and I was inspired. So here's little, tiny, fun morsel. Enjoy!

He stood beside her in the desert, looking at the expanse that they had to cover. They looked to each other briefly, shrugged and retrieved their kits. It was hot, too hot, even by the standards of the desert.

Sara peeled off her field jacket and tossed it into the back of the Tahoe, catching Grissom's attention. In all rationality, she was a woman-a woman peeling off her clothes would catch any man's attention. But this was Sara, and Sara exposing skin (though skin he had seen before) was incredibly erotic.

He raised an eyebrow as he looked at her, as if he were attempting to decipher a piece of evidence. Silently, he gulped, parched for water, but not because of the heat.

Sweat began to trickle down his brow, soaking the collar of his shirt. He would have divested himself of his jacket if he had been able to move. But he was rooted to the spot, standing there, watching her intense reaction to the equally as intense heat.

She bent over the trunk of the SUV and reached in for her camera. As she configured the settings to exact preciseness, he soaked in the beauty of her nonchalance. Her posture, the curve of her neck, the firm roundness of her backside, the way her hair flared in the intense heat, the moisture attaching to the strands, making them deviant.

She swiveled her hips as she twisted inside of the trunk, gathering the things she would need, inserting fresh film from the cooler. As she examined it, he examined her lips, the way her tongue teased the bottom lip as she maneuvered the film into its proper place, advancing it to it's correct position. He admired her exactness, her attention to detail.

He almost laughed when the film jammed and she cursed at the camera, nearly slamming it off the soft interior of the car. He should have been upset at the treatment of the equipment, but it was too hot to care. And if anyone asked him, he would have said it was heat stroke.

She pulled out the camera, replacing the sunglasses over her eyes, and moving towards him. "So hot." She muttered under her breath; she didn't like complaining to him, but he caught the words none-the-less and nodded in agreement. They set to work on the scene silently, logging evidence, taking samples. Neither of them really registered the other as they examined the specimens.

When they were finished, the sun was high in the sky. It scorched down on the dry sand, creating heat ripples in the distance. Sara stared at them for a moment before she packed up her kit and headed back to her Tahoe.

He watched as she nearly stumbled from the lethargy but didn't reach out to stop her. He just observed, picked up the signals that she was nearly to the point of sun poisoning, that she was unbearably tired.

But she was sexy. Her eyes low, her hair crazy, the sweat visible on the sliver of stomach that peeked out from the edge of her tank top. She licked her lips and breathed out heavily, attempting to relieve herself from the incredibly oppressive heat.

With the back of her hand, she wiped the sweat from her brow and sighed. "You got water?" She posed the question to him, catching him off guard; he was looking at the tiny exposed patch of skin of her stomach.

He moved toward her, watching her mouth move, forming words, but not catching any of them.

"Griss?" She asked, but still, he did not hear. She licked her lips and swiveled her neck to relieve the tenseness there. He caught the color that was edging up her neck and got an unintelligible need to rest his lips on her, stroke her skin there.

He moved toward her and watched as a droplet of sweat trailed over her brow, down her cheek, to cling to the base of her chin. He stared, just daring the salty thing to drop onto the sand. It held, as if taunting him.

Instead, he tilted his head and brought his hand up to her chin. With his pointer and middle finger, he swiped her chin of the sweat and examined it for a moment. Then, he looked at her, eyebrow quirked.

He couldn't help it.

Much to her surprise, he brought his fingers up to his lips and licked them, making sure to keep eye contact with her. She opened her mouth, just slightly, and smirked.

"You're losing water fast." He said, and winked at her, turning towards his Tahoe. He pulled two bottles from the trunk and handed one to her. They both gulped from the bottles, capped them and leaned back on their palms.

"A/C?" He asked, sitting up and dusting off his pants. He moved to the passenger door and held it open for her, though she had her own car and could have just as easily relaxing in the air conditioning there. She walked towards him and stepped up inside.

When he got into the car he looked at her longingly. She looked out at the desert, at the vast expanse of nothingness and then back at him. She spoke.

"You mind if we stay awhile?"


End file.
